


Ablutions

by capitainpistol



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Intimacy, M/M, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 01:02:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7554166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capitainpistol/pseuds/capitainpistol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark and Lois seduce Bruce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ablutions

**Author's Note:**

> Saw someone post the summary on tumblr and was inspired :)

Clark and Lois embraced. Their exultation was quiet, their kisses long. Soft joyful moans echoed in the dark cave. Bruce watched them like a kid in a circus, unaccustomed to such strange a sight, doubting its reality. 

He was fascinated. Repulsed. Happy for them. Just a tiny bit jealous. Horny and itchy inside the beaten bat suit. After a particularly nasty but successful raid, emotions were high and he was always alone. 

Lois held on to Clark, her fingers digging holes into his arms as she kissed him. Clark crunched up her shirt to expose the curve of her back, gentle and breathless but equally impatient. A thousand unspoken promises beamed down in the single, mischievous smile he gave her. 

Lois wiped grime off his forehead and he closed his eyes, her touch the only tonic he’ll need. He wrapped his arms around her for a second embrace, lifting her off the ground completely.

Clark heard her heart beat loud and deep in his body, felt the millisecond flutter of her breath on his skin. His x-ray caught the warmth radiating off of her in a light, airy wave. Every slight variation in her person went straight through him. She was familiar, soothing, and unique. 

Another wholly unique, familiar heartbeat vibrated the air like a thumping drum. Bruce missed Clark’s eyes darting over for a tenth of a second to catch him watching.

“What is it?” Lois asked Clark. She played with the soft twirl of hair at the back of his neck as he thought.

“Bruce,” said Clark. “He’s…”

Clark couldn’t give her a clear answer, he simply didn’t know. Bruce’s heartbeat was elevated, stronger even than when fighting. His jaw was shut tight, his bones shaky and brittle. His life energy swirled about him in angry reds and golds, rushing to his head, to his crotch, to his fists in waves. Intense here, low there, always churning. 

Outwardly, Bruce betrayed nothing, but Clark caught the slight twitch of his gloved hand on the console, the dozens of little tells imperceptible to the human eye. Except to Lois.

Lois caressed Clark’s arm, the fierce need of him sated by the possibilities neither man saw before them now.

“How about….”

Clark tilted his head, reading Lois’s obvious gesture, close to blushing when he understood.

“Lois…”

“Only if you want to. And if he wants to, of course.”

“He wants to what?” Bruce asked.

Lois patted the ‘S’ on Clark’s chest and sauntered over to Bruce, flipping her hair over her shoulder to show him her neck. The crossing of the arms was an extra touch. Bruce liked his women tough. She’d done her research. 

“Need some help?”

Bruce was much taller and broader even than Clark, making him much larger in comparison to Lois. Yet it was he who stood uneasy. 

Facing criminals every day of your life didn’t prepare you for Lois Lane’s full attention. And she was worse. She had all of the attitude, none of the malice. A twinkle in her eye that meant she knew something Bruce didn’t. Normally that’d tick him off, but he discovered ages ago that it was much more interesting to indulge Lois’s schemes.

“Much obliged,” he said.

Unclasped, unhooked and undone, Lois is surprised by how quickly Bruce is out of the suit, how many pieces go into it. How heavy it is.

Bruce sat to remove his boots. Doing it standing would only make him fall on his ass, and he’d rather not do that in front of her and…

“Where’s Clark?”

“He does that,” she said, going over the suit sprawled out on his console. “He comes back. Usually with food.” She lifted a piece of the suit. “Are those… stitches?” She looked at him with a big smile. “Do you sow?”

“Alfred. Mostly.”

Before he finished the second word, Clark returned to the cave, drying his hair with a towel he’d, presumably, just bought. Settled on a table beside explosive equipment sat the food, unpacked and steaming.

Bruce stood back up, wearing nothing but shorts. The tight, black kind that could, in some circles, be called _spanks_. Alfred had warned him about this. As a rule, he never wore them outside of the suit.

Lois gave a little giggle, looking at him up and down. 

Bruce was much too old to be embarrassed, but standing in the Batcave in the middle of the night in spanks wasn’t the ideal way to be at the moment.

“There’s a spare room.”

“A bed would be nice. I didn’t want to sleep here. It’s very dark.”

Bruce regretted doing it instantly: he clicked a button on the console and bathed their corner of the cave in artificial light. Her delighted laugh set a group of bats to scatter above their heads.

“Think you can catch some of them to eat?” Bruce calls out to…

Clark, who was missing again.

“All the time?” 

She nodded. “Unfortunately, it’s not always for food.”

Lois leaned forward slowly, combing her red hair over her shoulder as she touched the suit. He pulled up some work on the screens, standard overviews. Nothing fancy. 

To distract himself from the intrusive thought prickling his spine. Lois was coming closer, shyly passing him glances and far too interested in his suit.

He’d made do with one-night stands. The gray hair had cut the pick up time to zero. No one wanted a commitment, no matter how much money he had. Flirting was a look, a drink, a hotel keycard. 

Lois was… _Lois_.

For as long as he’d known her, she had been Clark’s, and they’d never really spoken, not since he tried to kill Clark that one time.

Lois had treated Bruce like a begrudged dinner guest, accepting him because of Clark. _Oh, there he goes, dragging in another dock criminal_. 

“Must be rough,” he said. 

His shoulder brushed just in time with hers. He felt her exhale and she smiled at him, kindly. Maybe he’d had it wrong, after all. She just didn’t hate his guts anymore. That was good. 

“If you’re worried about Clark,” she began.

Bruce instantly rebuked. “ _I’m_ worried?”

“Yes, you’re… squirmy.”

“Can you even spell that?”

Lois’s mouth gaped open. “You and Clark _do_ talk!”

Bruce didn’t dare look at her. He pulled up more bullshit work on the screens and typed. Lois was speechless. That was never a good thing.

“He’s mentioned a few times… that you misspell things.”

Lois was amused. “Does he tell you that I also smoke sometimes?” 

“That’s fine. I like cigars. I’ve had to cut back, though.” Like Alfred liked to say, he couldn’t die young, but he was currently clicking off extras on his bucket list. 

Quit smoking. Sure. Someday. Create a world leading team of super humans? Yes. Solve the crime crisis in his city? No problem. Defend the Earth? Absolutely.

Fuck your best friends girlfriend? 

“I would, if I could,” she said. “But it’s an old habit. Can’t help it. Now I only look down on the pack smokers. I don’t buy loosies. I only have when I drink, in a group, or… after…”

Bruce took a deep breath. There she was again, leaning. Touching him not with her hands, those were clear on the console, on his suit. She touched him with her body, all of her against all of him. She was startlingly warm for someone so small.

“Do you need his permission to smoke? Or does he need yours to talk to his friend?”

“You know I can’t make Clark do anything he doesn’t want to do.”

Bruce huffed at that. 

Lois was taken aback by his intensity. His… disdain? He was difficult to read. The first time she met him, he had a metal boot to Clark’s throat, and he had been crying. 

Bruce suddenly shook his head and let out a soft, sarcastic chuckle. “I get it now.”

Lois braced herself for whatever mind trick Bruce was about to throw her way. “You do?”

“Did Clark put you up to this? I don’t think so. He trusts you too much. I’d hoped he trusted me as much.”

“Ah, you think this is some kind of, what, loyalty test?”

“Either that or,” he looked at her up and down, contained an instinctual growl of approval. 

Her modest, professional suit was opened up, unkempt. She looked superhero tired, like she could either go on for another 12 hours or knock out right then and there. 

“I don’t want to believe that either,” he said, unable to let go of the image of her on the ground, putting herself between Clark and the Kryptonite. Brave. A little insane. 

He respected her. 

And she wanted to betray Clark?

Lois nudged him lightly. “No wonder you spent two years trying to murder Clark. You’re cynical as hell.” Her laugh was full of mirth and not the least bit directed at him. “What do you think, Clark?”

A rush of wind swooshed around them. Clark stood in between them, arm around Lois’s waist, big grin on his face. 

“Why don’t you tell him,” Clark said.

“Me?”

“It was your idea.”

“It was yours first. You practically licked the tears off his cheeks.”

Bruce looked back and forth at the couple, dumbfounded, thrown completely off balance. “I wasn’t….”

Lois hooked a finger in the waist of his spanks. Her nose flared as she drew him closer. So used to Clark’s cleanliness, his literal sun shone gleam, she forgot how intoxicating a man’s sweat could be. “No test.”

The light scratch of her nail against his skin nearly dismantled him.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Clark said, neck and cheeks flushed red. “We wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Bruce intended to walk away first, be cool about it, but Clark pulled Lois to him and turned them towards the spare room, leaving Bruce to think over the proposition. 

*

The shower was turned near to scalding. Bruce shut his eyes and steadied himself against the wall, mind swarming with desires and old habits, his hand pumping on his rock hard cock.

He tried to picture Lois, embracing him the way she did Clark, and then Clark doing the same to him. The sweetness is unbearable, the pleasure coming and going. The more intimate, the gentler, the more his body fought his pleasure. 

Only when he turned Lois over, on her hands and knees, does an orgasm rear its ugly head. He imagined her doing that hair flip to look him in the eyes, and he grabbed a chunk in his hand, forcing her to arch, to look away. He slid his cock out of her cunt and into her ass, her delight turning to a pleasurable scream. 

Bruce still couldn’t come. As rough as he imagined it, liked it, preferred it, as hard as it made him, switching between fucking Lois, fucking Clark, and them brutally fucking him. He can’t, because he knew Lois and Clark weren’t truly like that. 

They didn’t want… _that_. 

He punched the wall, his cock red and desperate between his legs. 

“Need some help?”

He turned to see Clark entering the shower, the glass door held open by Lois. Both wore their clothes. 

Took Bruce all he had to nod, to admit he wanted it, but he couldn’t say what it was he wanted, at least not from them together. Strategically, had it been one of them, it’d be easier to deduce what the purpose was, but they came to him as one, approaching him slowly.

Bruce turned back to the wall, water falling over his head. “You’re just going to stand there?”

Lois came up between him and the wall. Her white blouse starting to cling to her chest, exposing the Superman tee she wore underneath. He was about to rip them both off, but Clark, silent behind him, stopped him. 

“All the shops are closed,” he said. “I can’t buy her a new blouse for tomorrow morning.”

“Because you don’t steal, right.”

“That’s right.” 

Bruce’s first instinct was to jerk his hand away, but he preferred to keep his shoulder in tact. Clark set Bruce’s hand down to his side, covering his back with his chest. Clark focused on Bruce’s beating heart, so fast it sounded like a hum. Water crashed onto Bruce’s head and shoulders and onto them.

“Why don’t you help Lois?” Clark asked, his voice coaxing, right by Bruce’s ear.

Bruce stared at her breasts underneath the fabric, the slight curve of her hips as the water made the tee cling to her body. He unbuttoned her blouse with her help, their fingers brushing together in an almost playful way. Water splashed onto her and she didn’t mind. He slipped the blouse off her shoulders and went for the button of her skirt. Clark’s hand came around Bruce’s sides and stomach. Down Clark went, between Bruce’s legs to take him in his hand. Bruce’s mouth popped open. Clark’s hand going fast, like he ran on batteries.

Bruce lifted the supertee over Lois’s head and surprised her with a long, hard kiss. 

Too hard. 

“Sorry,” he said, not sure if he bit her or not. Ready to give this whole thing up. 

But she cupped his face, and shook her head sympathetically. “It’s ok,” she said, massaging his neck and shoulders. Bruce let his head fall back onto Clark’s shoulder, chest rising and falling faster and faster as Clark kept on his cock. 

Bruce had never felt anything like it, but the pleasure was just there, never going over the apex. He was thinking too much.

Then Lois caressed Bruce’s stomach, his hips, the hair on his chest, his thick thighs and the tender flesh around his cock, helping Clark on Bruce’s cock. 

Clark came around, leaving Lois to stroke Bruce. He dug his fingers into Lois’s hair at the back of her neck, precise pressure at spots to make her neck lose composure, for her shoulders to slump lazily and be directed. 

Bruce had never seen Clark smolder. Clark brought Lois for a kiss, come together at Bruce’s chest, rising as one to shower Bruce with kisses, taking turns at his mouth.

Clark braced Bruce with casual ease, keeping his hands from wandering to luscious body parts. Done sleekly, as if Bruce had commanded it himself. Every denial came with a reward. Lois raked her nails and explored, coming together with Clark many times to kiss. They kissed him, trapped him, and took care of him.

Bruce closed one a hard fist into Clark’s hair, a gentler one on Lois’s, and pushed them down. Both looked up at him, smiling. Their mouths closed on his cock, sucked and licked and stroked, sending Bruce’s head back from the wall, the water falling directly on his chest. He shut his eyes as he came, mind blissfully clear and elsewhere. Lois and Clark came back up, washed the cum off their bare chests. As Bruce regained his breath, they started to shower, Bruce coming in between them.


End file.
